


Scandalous at Midnight

by SilverAngel621



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Regency, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, F/M, First Time, Historical, Light BDSM, M/M, Mistress, Romance, Sassy Harry, Veela Lucius Malfoy, older man/younger boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 23:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverAngel621/pseuds/SilverAngel621
Summary: Regency A/B/O Universe AUAfter his disastrous elopement to Ginny Weasley promptly ended in an annulment, Harry's reputation was left in tatters. No one worth their title would have him. But the debtors were pounding at the doors and the Potters were on the verge of losing everything. So Harry, ever the foolhardy Gryffindor found himself alone in Lucius Malfoy's bedroom ready with a scandalous proposal.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter (past), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley (past), Lucius Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 182





	Scandalous at Midnight

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Mr. Potter?”

Harry started, the movement lodging the invisibly cloak off of his slight frame just enough to reveal a sliver of the goose-pimpled skin on his arm. Well, it was no use anyway seeing as how Lord Malfoy had seen right through his ruse. The young wizard pulled off the cloak, draping it over the neared chair. Harry followed the tall lord's movements through the bedchamber as the blond man shrugged off his cloak and began undoing his robes. He was so similar and yet different from his son, Draco. He was much taller, with broader shoulders honed from his service in the wizarding military with a long, thick mane of silver hair cascading down his muscled back. His handsome, regal features were chiseled with age and experience and he carried an air of confidence that was intimidating even to other alphas. Harry hadn’t had much opportunity to ever talk to the older man, but even he could appreciate the raw beauty of the alpha.

He gulped.

It wasn’t every day he frequented the bedchamber of alphas. This was such a bad idea. He could practically hear Hermione tutting and see her disapproving frown. It was almost enough to have him grab for his robe and run from the room. Almost.

“How did you know I was here?” He deflected. Not even Dumbledore or Professor Snape had seen through his cloak when he’d been pulling all those pranks with the Weasley twins back at Hogwarts.

The blond man didn’t even pause in his bedtime routine when he answered the young wizard. “My entire manor has more than double the security spells than Hogwarts and the Ministry combined. It is second to only Gringotts. But even if this had been a muggle home, your smell is quite …distinctive” Malfoy tapped his finger to the edge of his patrician nose.

Harry flushed and cursed his biology. There were three designations for everyone. Alpha, beta, omega. Betas were the most common, while omegas were the rarest. They were also very troublesome. When a wizard reached their majority at seventeen, their designation fully manifested. There were, of course, signs before one turned seventeen but scent glands and heats/ruts for omegas and alphas only became fully functional after seventeen. He’d just had his first heat last month after his birthday. Even so, he’d thought the scent blockers he’d taken from Snape’s personal storage would have disguised his scent.

“I’ve answered your question, now why don’t you answer mine. Or I can just have one of the elves escort you out.” Malfoy’s curt comment urged Harry into sudden action.

“Wait no, please Lord Malfoy, please just hear me out first!” Harry burst out, jerking forward and standing just a few inches away from the blond lord. Cool gray eyes scrutinized him from head to toe. Harry felt like squirming. He didn’t want to be found lacking. He’d worn his best dress, the one with the least amount of rips that didn’t look like it had been washed a hundred times. This one looked like it had only been washed two dozen times. A few bits of strategically placed laces covered the more worn and faded parts of the dress.

He clasped his hands together in front of him to prevent them from fidgeting. “I have a proposition for you,” he said softly, looking down at Lord Malfoy’s shoes. The dragonhide shone a liquid black. They probably cost enough to feed him and his entire family for a year.

A pale hand reached out and tangled around the mass of the haphazard curls that had managed to escape Harry’s hastily coiffured bun. There weren’t any spells that could control his bird’s nest of hair. Nothing and both he, Hermione and his mom had tried countless spells.

Surprisingly gentle fingers trailed across his neck, pulling the last strands of his black hair along his lightly tanned skin to the dip and curve of his collarbone. Lord Malfoy's large hands curled into a loose fist, the knuckles brushing ticklishly across his chilled skin. The older man teased his knuckled down to Harry’s décolletage, which was scandalously low. He’d borrowed a corset from one of the thinner serving girls in Lord Black's home. He didn’t have much of the chest for an omega but he’d tied the corset extra tight to create the illusion that he had some semblance of omega curves. The little bosom he had was pressed tightly and firm, threatening to spill over his neckline. Just one deep breath and he’d have another scandal on his hands.

“What a positively scandalous dress, Mr. Potter. One could get the wrong idea when you show up in a man’s bedchamber in the dead of night wearing such a thing,” he flicked at the front laces of Harry’s dress, eliciting a sharp gasp from the omega.

“Or maybe the right idea,” Harry whispered in what he hoped to be a coy tone. He gathered up all the Gryffindor courage he had and looked at Lord Malfoy right in the eye. They were so much like Draco’s but whereas the younger lordling’s eyes were lighter, prone to turning a light icy blue when he was angry, Lord Malfoy’s were a cool gray. Cold and calculating, they held years and years of secrets that his younger counterpart knew not.

He pushed closer, pressing Lord Malfoy’s hand directly on his chest. He licked his dry lips in what he hoped was a seductive manner. So many people had told him how pretty he was throughout his entire life. It was time to see just how much his pretty looks could get him.

Lord Malfoy smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He took his hand away and Harry wanted to shiver at the sudden chill in the room. “How tempting, Mr. Potter but I have stringent standards. What makes you think I would want damaged goods that a lowly Weasley jilted and the leftovers of my own son?”

Harry flinched, the words harsh but true. He was ruined in the eyes of society. Had been ever since his hasty marriage-well, elopement to Gretna Green with Ginny Weasley had been promptly annulled when they’d returned to London. It had only been further exacerbated after he’d drunkenly tried to bed Draco in the hopes the blond would marry him. He had hoped an advantageous marriage to the Malfoy/Black heir would overshadow the scandal of his annulment and it would have if only the blond prat had married him.

After their drunken romp, Draco had openly bragged to all and sunder how’d he bedded the Potter heir, now named the Potter whore. Though Harry had shared a wedding night with Ginny, he and Malfoy junior had shared nothing more than a few rough fondles before the blond had passed out drunk on top of Harry. They’d both been found in the morning by the servants in their sleep rumpled clothes but both had been undressed enough to have ruined him completely.

Draco had been cruel in his rejection but really, Harry had no one to blame but himself. During Hogwarts, the blond had tried repeatedly to court him and had even offered him marriage just before Ginny had begun courting him. But Harry had thought himself in love with the fiery redhead, only learning later just how much he really meant to her. Draco had laughed at him when Harry had asked if they would marry, telling him he wasn’t even worthy enough to be his mistress and why would he pay for something he’d already gotten for free. Harry had wanted to yell at him that they had not slept together but he’d been overcome with tears to do much else other than run from the room. Which only added fuel to the flames consuming his reputation.

And now here he was. This was his last resort. He had no prospects, no pride, and certainly, no scruples left. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, glittering tears seeping from between inky black lashes.

“How pretty your tears are, but they are hardly fit for a seductress,” Malfoy said softly, taking Harry’s face in both hands and tilting his face up his. He thumbed away a stray tear. Liquid green eyes looked at him, full of misery and desperation. Something behind those cold grey eyes softened minutely. “I'll call a carriage for you to be sent home. Do not worry, they will be discreet and this momentary lapse in judgment will be forgotten in the morning.” The Alpha’s low tone was dismissive but Harry latched onto the kindness lacing his words.

Something snapped inside him because the next thing he knew, Harry was surging forward, grasping the elder Malfoy’s neck in desperate hands as he stood on his tiptoes to reach the alpha’s mouth. He’d kissed a few boys and girls, had even gotten farther than that with a select few and of course there that one night with ginny so by no means was he inexperienced but kissing someone like Malfoy was an altogether different beast.

His dry, slightly warm lips were nothing like the boyish and girlish lips he’d kissed before. He was so solid under his hands, his cool and deep musk intoxicating so up close.

Harrys own lips were damp with his own tears but Malfoy didn’t seem to mind the wet and salty kiss. Harry pressed closer, the gold buttons of the man’s shirt brushing indecently against his chest. He used all he’d learned, making himself pliant as he continued to coax the elder man into the kiss. It was uncoordinated, but Harry's lips were eagerly pushing and pulling, sucking onto the alpha’s lower lip; his saliva made their lips slide slickly against each other.

Malfoy was the first to pull away, his hands having moved down to Harry's hips. Unlike Harry, who stood dazed, flushed and panting, the alpha still retained that air of aloofness and coldness archetypical of a Malfoy. He seemed amused.

“My dear, if that is how you kiss then I have much to teach you,” was all the warning he got before Harry was being pulled into a kiss. The omega didn't even have time to be offended.

Warm lips immediately pressed his own open, a hot tongue slipping past the parted seams. Harry gasped, which only managed to give the older man more access. Malfoy masterfully bent him over his arm, so a breathless Harry was forced to clutch onto him to keep from falling. But the strong, corded arm around his waist was an implacable force that had no intention of letting the younger man fall. Harry felt Malfoy's leg press between the folds in his skirt, his thigh coming rest between the apex of the omega’s legs.

Electric shocks of pleasure spread through Harry. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin but Malfoy's arm kept him immobile and his wicked tongue muffled his surprised, wanton cry. His traitorous omega body moved into the hot touch, Harry’s body moving of its own accord and seeking friction against that insidious thigh. Harry moaned into the kiss. Merlin, no boy or girl had ever made him feel this way. Not even Cho in the fourth year or Cedric in fifth. This one kiss was enough to even make him forget the few secret clandestine meetings he’d had with his betrothed. He’d been under the impression those had been the pinnacle of pleasure in his young, short life. It was laughable really. Although laughter was the furthest thing from his mind right now.

Here he was acting every part the whore, with a man old enough to be his father after just one kiss. The sobering though was enough to dampen any bit of arousal he might have felt. Harry lurched away from the man, almost falling over his uncooperative feet but Malfoy had fast reflexes. He righted Harry with a tight grip to his wrist, but the omega was quick to scramble away from the man. Who knew what other devious tricks the elder would pull on him?

Malfoy smirked, his eyes hooded. He wiped away the wetness on his lips with a thumb. “Not bad, Mr. Potter.” The low rumble of his amused voice sounded particularly insidious.

Harry threw back his shoulders, head held high. Damn Malfoy. While he was sure he himself looked disheveled with his hair askew and his dress rumpled beyond saving, Malfoy remained immaculate. Only Harry’s panted breaths and the crackle from the fireplace could be heard in the room. But he’d be damned if he showed just how intimidating he found the alpha to be.

“I now understand why my son was so obsessed with you. You almost broke his heart when you refused his offer of courtship.” The alpha sounded reluctantly impressed and not a bit affronted on his son’s behalf. Harry wondered at the cavalier attitude. As far as he knew, Draco and his father were close. Every time something or someone offended Draco back at Hogwarts, he’s threatened to tell his father who was on the school board.

Harry scoffed. “More like I hurt his pride. He only wanted me because I kept saying no, he didn’t even know me!”

Malfoy inclined his head. “Malfoys do love a challenge and that boy is stubborn to a fault. But you are an intriguing one. I do wonder why you are so desperate to find a keeper.” He asked in genuine curiosity.

Harry looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. The warm glow of the fire licked over his alabaster skin. He didn’t know it but he made such a fetching sight, with his cheeks lightly flushed and his pouty lips swollen with the evidence of his recent activities.

“I thought you would have heard by now,” he whispered. “My father is in debt. That was the entire reason the Weasleys had my marriage to Ginny annulled because there was no dowry to be had. And I suppose they didn’t want to be burdened further by the reputation of my father,” Harry couldn’t help the hint of vitriol. James Potter, a once decorated soldier, was known to cavort all over London with whores and the wives of other lords, drinking and gambling until the wee hours of the morning, and running his family name into the ground with his other antics. And yet, the entire Potter clan blamed him, Harry, for their fall from grace. Just because he was an omega and not an alpha.

The low chuckle was unexpected. “How very gracious of you, Mr. Potter, for wanting to save your family. You make a lovely martyr, " Malfoy mocked, walking closer until he was inches from Harry. His instincts were screaming at him to run in the other direction but something kept him rooted to the spot. Probably stupidity.

“Harry, my name is Harry,” the omega offered softy.

“Harry then. Do you know just how much your father owes _me_, Harry?” Malfoy lifted a finger to tug softly at a stray, black curl. That was twice now in the span in minutes the alpha was touching his hair. The brainless omega inside him was preening that the alpha found his hair to be irresistible.

Harry shook his head. Malfoy smirked. He leaned down and for a heart-stopping second Harry thought he was going to be kissed again. His heart certainly did not leap in anticipation. _It did not!_ The alpha’s hot breath ghosted over the delicate shell of his ear. Harry hunched his shoulder, his skin breaking out in goose-pimples. When Malfoy whispered the amount his father owed however, Harry’s heart did stop.

“What? No…” Shaking his head, Harry covered his lips mouth with his hand. “that’s, that’s…how is that possible?” Harry almost wailed. It was enough to buy a small lordship outright. How could his father be so damn irresponsible? James had told him it was only a few gambling debts here and there and a few missed payments on their London Townhouse. He’d said a small lump sum would be enough to get them out of the debt.

Harry had hoped becoming the man’s mistress would earn him enough to pay off his father’s debts and let them keep their home. But after this revelation, Harry would have to work for years to pay off just a portion of it. His father had never even mentioned his debt to Malfoy, so Harry could only wonder about what else he’d left out.

“Your father has a penchant for young whores he can’t afford and gambling with things he doesn’t have.”

Harry shook his head. He’d been a fool to come here. There was no way Malfoy would take him as a mistress. He wasn’t one of those worldly omegas the alphas all vied after, he didn’t have their teasing charm, he wasn’t practiced in the art of seduction. Even his romantic track record showed he couldn’t keep any suitor interested in him longer than a few months.

“How much do you think you’re worth, pretty little Harry?”

Harry bit his lip for a second, letting the abused morsel go with a wet pop. He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know, but it certainly isn’t as much as my father owes you," he whispered dejectedly. 

The older alpha sighed in mock disappointment, shaking his head. “You put too little value in yourself. Just one look into those green eyes and a man can feel like he is drowning in them.”

Harry frowned. What did that mean? He had no virtue, no dowry, and a name that was notorious for all the wrong reasons.

The omega flinched back when the alpha’s long, graceful fingers quickly tugged at the laces tying his flimsy bodice closed.

“What are you doing?” The omega screeched, batting furiously at the quicksilver fingers but his swats were as effective as the flaps of a butterfly against a hurricane.

“Inspecting the goods before I buy, to put it crudely.” Malfoy flashed him a quick grin if the quick baring of his canines could be called one. Harry was momentarily stunned. The small smile had made the older man look so young for a second there, looking so devilish and charming. But Harry was quickly reminded that this was very much an alpha in front of him when his chest was finally bared. Malfoy’s eyes flared hotter than the flames licking at the bedroom hearth as his gaze raked along the omega’s untouched skin.

The omegan flesh was tanned a light gold, soft and supple to the touch. Pert, pink nipples tightened under the older alpha’s intense scrutiny, puckering up like little ripe berries. The older Malfoy couldn’t help himself, his hands coming up to rake his short, manicured nails lightly down the center of Harry's chest. The touch left a trail of fire in its wake. The omega felt like he would forever be branded by the illicit touch.

Harry squawked and turned away to cover himself with his hands. “What are you….you can’t do that!” He complained ineffectually. Never mind just a minute ago he’d practically begged the man to make him his mistress, which would involve considerably fewer clothes and way more touching.

While Harry was busy lacing his bodice back up with fingers that refused to work, Malfoy called on an elf. It looked like it was a thousand years old, his face wrinkled into a permanent frown. Harry covertly glanced at the richly clothed elf, straining to hear the lowly murmured conversation he had with Lord Malfoy before he disappeared again. Figures. Even the servants were dressed nicer than him.

Harry felt firm hands turn him around, before gently brushing away his fingers to do up the laces on his bodice. Harry let him because obviously he’d lost all ability at dressing himself.

“Kreacher will make you a room. It is getting late, we will talk tomorrow evening about you becoming my paramour,” Malfoy finished with the laces, but his hands lingered at the ties. Harry forced himself to step back, even though his legs felt like they were made out of jelly.

Staying overnight in Malfoy’s personal home would be putting the last nail on his coffin, so to say. “Are you keeping me then?” Harry asked incredulously, his mouth dry.

Malfoy leaned down slowly with intent clear in his eyes, giving Harry plenty of time to pull away. But Malfoy had turned the omega into helpless prey. Harry let the man kiss him, this one more time but Harry was no less breathless for it. It was just a warm press of surprisingly soft flesh, slightly moist from the alpha’s warm breath and yet Harry felt everything inside him shifting. The omega was left undone when the alpha pulled back, his lips tingling. What dark spell had Malfoy cast on him?

“Yes, I suppose I am _keeping_ you.”

His dark words easily elicited a full-body shudder. It shouldn’t sound so…dirty, so dangerous when he said it. Harry wondered if it was too late to back out now. He was making a deal with a devil, he was sure.

“And Harry?” Harry jerked his wide green eyes up to meet a smoldering, grey set. “When I decide something is mine, there is no escape. Understood?”

Harry gulped and nodded. This was going to happen whether he liked it or not. The only problem was, he feared he might like what the older man made him feel, just a little. And that was a dangerous thing indeed.


End file.
